


Last Chance At Love

by eledhwenlin



Category: Panic At The Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-22
Updated: 2012-08-22
Packaged: 2017-11-12 16:41:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/493440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eledhwenlin/pseuds/eledhwenlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Welcome to Last Chance at Love, the dating game show for the desperate!"</p><p>In which Ryan signs Spencer up for a dating game show, Spencer hates Ryan a lot, and then gets matched up to Brendon. This is a story of presumed last and actually a lot of second chances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Chance At Love

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Bandom Big Bang 2012. You can find the bonus material [here]()
> 
> My thanks go to roebling, who incepted me with the idea, and lalejandra, who performed a stellar beta. Last, but not least to theletterelle for giving me such awesome bonus material. <333

"God, I hate everything," Spencer says as he walks into Ryan's apartment. He drops the take-out he picked up on the table.

Ryan doesn't even turn down the volume on his TV, just yells, "Living room!"

"I hate eating in front of the TV," Spencer says. It's just one of those days where everything pisses him off. But he still gets a couple of plates and carries everything into the living room.

"You could've helped me," Spencer says as he sits down. Then he sees what Ryan's watching. "Fuck, do you really need to watch this shit?"

"No, and yes," Ryan says. "Look, Eric's in awesome form tonight."

"I don't know why you're so addicted to this stupid show." Spencer grabs the pad thai and forks a generous portion onto his plate. "It's full of losers who don't even get that they're being belittled. And then they fight for the attention of other losers. These 'relationships' don't last any longer than that one date they have to go on."

"Wow," Ryan says. "Were the newlyweds that annoying today?"

Spencer takes a deep breath and bites back the long monologue detailing exactly what is wrong with being in love these days. It's not so much that Spencer hates people who are obviously, happily in love. He just hates people in love who get fanatic about proselytising to everyone who just happens to be single that being in love is the most wonderful thing in the world. And maybe he hates the way his chest hurts when Sean smiles at Tom and Tom smiles back because maybe Spencer misses that feeling. But he pushes all of that aside and just says, "Yes."

"Do they only want you to be happy?"

Spencer nods. He's tried to convince them that he's happy, but so far they haven't believed him. Stupid love makes them blind. 

Ryan grins. "Did they try to set you up again?"

"Fuck no, I wasn't gonna say yes to that." The last few blind dates Spencer agreed to were complete disasters. He doesn't even know why he went on them, with only a name and a phone number programmed into his phone. Spencer's happily single now. Well, mostly happily. Anyway, he has Ryan to hang out with, and that's really all the social interaction Spencer needs right now.

Just then Eric sings, "This is your last chance at love," and introduces the contenders and Ryan's attention is diverted. 

"I hate this show," Spencer says.

"You said." Ryan eats mechanically, eyes glued to the screen. "But they're not losers. See, that girl there, she has her own business. Just too busy to date around."

Spencer frowns. "It's still a stupid show," he says. He has to admit that the show is mesmerising and sooner rather than later he's sitting on the edge of the couch, urging Brittany not to choose Jesse over Phil. 

"Stupid show, huh?" Ryan offers Spencer a new beer.

"Shut up," Spencer says. "I'm not at all invested in these people."

"Then why did you just yell 'yes' when Brittany kicked out Adam?"

"Because Adam was a jerk and his answer was wrong on so many levels," Spencer says. "Oh, fuck you."

Ryan smirks. Five minutes later, the second round's over, too, and Brittany's finally got her date, and Eric turns to the viewer. 

"Stay tuned for next week," he says. "Then you'll learn how the dates of Brittany and Phil and Anika and Doris went."

"I hate that they always make us wait until next week," Ryan says.

Spencer snorts. "It's just to make sure you tune in again. They get you invested and then make you wait. And since you're already watching the date, you'll probably keep watching until they've found the new lovebirds and the cycle goes on and on."

"Says the man who pretends not to be invested in Brittany and her love life."

Spencer glares at Ryan and goes back to hating everything.

In other words, it's just a typical night of Spencer and Ryan hanging out. At least, that's what Spencer thinks.

~~~***~~~

It's a busy week at work, full of meetings and avoiding Sean and Tom. Spencer really is happy for them and that they found love, but he wishes they would stop bugging him about it. Fortunately, at least the meetings make it easier to hide.

Spencer sighs in relief when it's finally Friday. Only one more meeting to get through and Spencer can spend the rest of the afternoon finalising his report. This evening, it's happy hour time with Ryan, and Spencer plans to get absolutely wasted. He figures he deserves it after this week.

When he gets out of his meeting, he has three new texts, all from Ryan, asking where and when they're going to meet, as well as one random picture of Ryan's hands. There's also one missed call from an unknown number. 

Spencer replies to Ryan's texts (they always meet at the Wayside and happy hour starts at 7 p.m., and Ryan never remembers either of those things) and contemplates calling back. He hates calling unknown numbers, but it might be business-related and he doesn't feel like he can just ignore it.

Just then, he has another incoming call from the same number. If they're calling back after only one hour, it must be business-related, Spencer thinks. He hits the green button, already getting into his 'business call' mindset.

"Hi," Spencer says.

"Am I speaking to Spencer Smith?" There's a young woman on the other side of the line, sounding cheerful and bouncy.

"You are," Spencer says cautiously. "Who am I speaking to?"

"My name's Marina, and it's my pleasure to tell you that you've been selected for a casting call for _Last Chance at Love_." 

Spencer almost drops his phone. "What?" Jenny from graphics gives him a look, and Spencer hurries onward to his office.

Marina laughs. "Don't worry, a lot of people are surprised when they make the cut. Is your address still valid?" She rattles off Spencer's address, and Spencer is still in such shock that he can only meekly agree.

"Okay, then we'll send the casting information by mail, and we hope to see you at the casting next weekend."

"Wait," Spencer says, but then Marina already says goodbye and hangs up on him.

Spencer stares at his phone, but it's silent and does not answer any of his questions. It doesn't really matter anyway, because Spencer's pretty sure he knows who will be able to answer them: Ryan.

~~~***~~~

Spencer has to wait a fucking hour in the bar for Ryan. He's used to Ryan being late and forgetting to text. But today he's paranoid enough to think that Ryan knows and is avoiding him.

Spencer makes good use of the happy hour, although it's just the brew they've got on tap and cocktails. Whatever, a margarita contains tequila. Spencer draws the line at salted rims, though.

"You sure you don't just want the bottle and a shot glass?" The bartender seems amused.

Spencer shakes his head. "Nah, I'm good." He opts for a glass of water, though.

By the time Ryan finally arrives, Spencer's tired and cranky and a bit drunk.

"Sorry," Ryan says, not sounding the least bit contrite.

"I hate you," Spencer says. " _Last Chance at Love_? Really, Ryan?"

Ryan seems utterly unconcerned by the way Spencer's glaring at him. He orders a large cocktail that has all colours of the rainbow. Spencer wishes he could light people up on fire with his mind. He remembers having seen that in a movie. 

"Hey, what's that name of that, uh, that person who could set people on fire with her mind?"

Ryan doesn't even pause. "They were looking for really bad cases," he says. "I figured it couldn't hurt you to suggest you."

"But, Ryan," Spencer says. "Why? I don't—" _Want a boyfriend_ , he means to say, but his tongue won't cooperate.

"Because you're lonely," Ryan says. The bartender gives him his cocktail and puts down another margarita in front of Spencer.

"I'm not," Spencer says. His margarita looks much smaller than Ryan's concoction, but the colours are a bit off-putting.

Ryan gives him a look and takes a sip of his drink. Seriously, orange juice usually isn't that yellow. 

"Maybe I'm a little lonely," Spencer says. "But that doesn't mean you should go and sign me up for a stupid show."

"Well, it was just a gesture," Ryan says. "Anyway, first you gotta go to that casting. That was on the website where I signed you up. If you make it through the casting, your name's added to a pool of candidates. And only if you're matched up to someone, then you're invited on the show."

Spencer blinks confused. "Then why did you sign me up?"

"To shake you awake," Ryan says. "Because Z's tour is ending in two weeks and I don't want you to spend all the time she's home alone in your apartment."

Spencer sighs. "I still think it's a stupid idea," he says. Spencer doesn't mind being alone. He could take up a hobby. 

"Noted," Ryan says.

When Spencer gets home that night, he just stands in his dark hallway, although he's so tired he feels like falling over. He's put up all these pictures in his hallway, and normally he doesn't pay them a lot of attention when he's hurrying up and down the hallway, getting ready for work, eating a quick breakfast in between the shower and checking his e-mails. 

Now he takes the time to look at them, though. There's the one of his family, his parents smiling happily. Spencer feels a pang in his chest—he's always wanted a relationship like the one his parents have, but he never seemed to find the right person; it's never felt like the right time. Then there's Crystal with her boyfriend and their baby daughter. Little Lara is Spencer's most favourite niece (she also happens to be his only niece), and Spencer wishes—

He rubs his eyes. He has to go to bed, he thinks. He needs sleep and a clear head. "Fuck you, Ryan," he says. Then he sends Ryan a text saying the same thing, just because.

Ryan's answer is short. _I knew you'd admit that I'm right._

~~~***~~~

The following Tuesday, Spencer gets the promised casting information. He's relieved to read that it's on a Saturday. It would be kind of awkward to have to take time off work to go to a casting.

The information sheet is pretty to the point: he's supposed to show up at the studio at 8 a.m. sharp, late-comers won't be admitted to the casting. There will be a short interview, during which they'll ask him mainly about his love life. Spencer's not too keen on that, but it's a bit like a test, he thinks. If he can tell these people about what he wants from love, it should make it easier to also tell the next guy he meets. 

Spencer puts the sheet on his fridge with a magnet, so it won't get lost in the detritus of Spencer's everyday life. He starts to go through his other mail, sorting out bills, ripping up credit card offers, but his eyes always stray back to the casting info. It's the logo, Spencer tells himself. It's big and bright, made for drawing people's attention toward it.

Belatedly, he realises that he used the _LOVE!_ magnet—it was included in a set Z gave to him when he moved. 

Spencer thinks it's time for dinner and a stupid movie, so he can forget about the whole thing until Saturday.

~~~***~~~

Spencer doesn't really forget about it. In the morning, when he gets milk for his coffee, his hand brushes the sheet. He sees it out of the corners of his eyes while he's reading the newspaper and checking up on his personal e-mail account. When he gets home at night and drops off his groceries in the kitchen, it's the first thing he sees.

Spencer orders take-out on Thursday and Friday. And still he reads the paper often enough that by Friday he can recite it word for word. 

He really wishes he could get drunk on Friday night, but Ryan made him promise. "Don't even try to torpedo the whole thing," Ryan had said. "You don't know how much shit I had to enter on that website, you better try for real at least."

Instead Spencer watches _Die Hard_ , not taking in anything that happens on-screen, and goes to bed early, only to lie awake for what feels like half the night. He wishes he didn't feel so nervous. It's not like he puts any real stock into this casting. Most likely he'll be out of there in five minutes, won't ever receive another phone call, and won't be any wiser except for the experience. 

It still takes him ages to fall asleep.

In the morning, he's kind of cranky. He has to get up even earlier on this Saturday than he normally does for work, and he's hardly slept. What little sleep he got was filled with dreams where he forgot to put on pants. 

Spencer checks about a dozen times that he's really properly dressed. He only stops short of sending Ryan a pic and asking him to make sure Spencer's dressed because Spencer did that once, in high school, before going to a dance—he thinks it was Homecoming in his sophomore year. Spencer didn't hear the end of how he was not dressed for a dance until Christmas. 

At least Spencer hopes early morning traffic won't be so bad in L.A., Spencer thinks. 

But then there's a twenty-car pile-up on the highway. 

By the time Spencer reaches the studio entrance, he has a pounding headache. His plan to stop for good coffee was destroyed by the stupid accident, so now he has to content himself with the bad coffee the coffee machine in the basement of the studio has to offer. 

Spencer's fortunately not the last to come, but all the seats are already taking. Someone with a clipboard and an important-looking badge comes up and asks for his name.

"Spencer Smith," Spencer says.

"Okay," the girl says. "We'll call you in when it's your turn." Then she goes to the next incomer and Spencer realises that they work on a first-in, first-out principle. He barely resists the urge to bang his head against the wall. He hates waiting.

Thankfully, he has his phone. He regales Ryan with texts. All of them are a variation of _this is all your fault_ , which Spencer feels he needs to point out. About three dozen times.

Ryan just sends, _cheer up and smile, emo boy_. 

Spencer scowls at his phone and drinks more of the bad coffee before it's completely cold. 

Finally, they close the door. Clipboard girl gets up on a chair and yells, "We're starting in five! Come immediately to the door when your name is called!"

Half an hour later, Spencer decides he hates all of mankind and doesn't want to be dating, anyway. There are way too many people in this hallway, and many of them seem to even be awake. Spencer doesn't get people who can be awake and civil, much less enjoying themselves, before ten a.m. 

A lot of people are on their phones, but the ones who aren't seem intent to make up for them in terms of volume. One guy especially is getting on Spencer's nerves—he's standing in a large group about ten yards away from Spencer and keeps laughing loudly. He's also talking incessantly. For a blissful five minutes, he was sitting on the floor, but then he started drumming on the floor, and Spencer just wants to tie him up until he can't move anymore.

The guy smiles at Spencer, and his smile transforms his face, but Spencer can't quite keep his glare in check. The guy turns back to his group and there's whispering going on, with some pointed glances into Spencer's direction. 

Spencer decides that Ryan owes him a lot for signing him up to this bullshit and then convincing Spencer to actually have a go at it. 

Stupid dating show.

Some people stay in the casting room much longer than others, Spencer notices. It makes him grumpy, because the information sheet explicitly said that they only got five minutes. If they keep going this slowly, Spencer will spend his entire Saturday in this noisy hallway in the basement of this stupid studio building. 

The guy next to him must have seen Spencer glaring at the last person who just left the casting room (fifteen minutes, really, that's fucking ridiculous). 

"Yeah. They always say it's five minutes, but it's a lie."

Spencer turns toward the guy. "Uh, you've done this before?" Spencer feels like a bloody newbie. But he's never wanted to go to a casting and, to be fair, he still doesn't want to. Spencer adds the latest Star Wars Lego kit to the things Ryan owes him. 

The guy grins. "Yeah." He does have a nice smile, Spencer thinks. But then his glance falls on the other guy, who seems absolutely incapable of staying still—and who just happens to be looking at Spencer. As soon as he realises Spencer's looking back, Energizer Bunny Guy averts his eyes. 

God, Spencer hopes he's not going to come over and try to talk to Spencer. He turns back to the guy next to him, but just then the guy's name's called and he's gone. 

The next one up's Spencer.

~~~***~~~

It's entirely stupid to be so nervous, Spencer tells himself as he pushes open the door to the casting room. It's not like this is important. It doesn't mean anything to Spencer. He just promised Ryan to do this and then he can go home and be done with it.

There's a table set up, with four people sitting at it. The woman on the right is scribbling something down, not even looking up at Spencer. He stops about three yards away from their table. The guy next to her looks incredibly bored and yawns. 

"Hanna, another coffee!"

Spencer dislikes him immediately. 

"Smith, Spencer," Clipboard Girl says, as she hands Impolite Guy his coffee. So she must be Hanna. 

The other guy and woman next to Impolite Guy smile at Spencer, which is at least something. 

"So, Spencer," the woman says. "Tell us something about yourself."

Spencer has to bite his lip not to say 'uh.' Make a good impression, he tells himself. Just to show Impolite Guy up. "I'm 25 years old—"

"Isn't that a bit young to be desperate?" Impolite Guy says. 

"Your cut-off age is 30," Spencer shoots back. He puts a smile on his face to take the sting out of his words. 

Even Disinterested Woman is now looking at Spencer. She's grinning. "You're sassy," she says. "I like that." She motions him to go on.

"I'm, uh, I'm from Vegas."

"Let me guess, you're going to be an actor?"

Spencer smiles broadly. "No, but the business study program at Stanford is pretty good," he says. "I was hired by the company I did my internship for."

"What do you do when you're not working?"

Spencer has the sudden urge to say something stupid, like extreme knitting or going on spirit trips in the desert. But then he hears Ryan again, _don't torpedo it_ , and he bites his tongue. "I surf," he says instead. He tries to add something, but suddenly his mind is blank and he can't think of anything else he does all day. It's pure emptiness out there. He tries to cover it up by smiling, while the jury or whatever they're called waits. Finally, they ask him another question, which he can answer again, but it's like all the spirit went out of him. 

He totally botched that.

~~~***~~~

Of course, Ryan's waiting at Spencer's door when Spencer gets home. "Fuck off," Spencer says.

"It went that bad, huh?" Ryan's not deterred. Spencer shouldn't have sulked so much when he was a teenager; Ryan's built up an immense tolerance to Spencer's bad moods.

Spencer immediately goes to his fridge and takes two beers out. "Even worse," he says. "I totally fucked it up."

Ryan shrugs. He's pretty calm. "You don't know that until you get the call."

Spencer puts one beer down in front of Ryan. "I won't get one," he predicts. "They hated me and I hated them, so it's all good."

"Don't be so negative," Ryan says. But he's a good friend and lets Spencer get stupidly drunk while watching lots of movies with loud explosions, so by the time Spencer crawls into bed, he's at least feeling marginally better.

On Monday, he gets the call that _Last Chance at Love_ would just love to welcome him into their pool of candidates. 

Two weeks later he gets another call telling him that they've found some really good matches for him and would like to record the show in two weeks, if that's okay with him?

Ryan and Z basically sit on him to make him agree.

~~~***~~~

"I don't think this is a good idea," Spencer says. Z just shrugs in the seat next to him. She'd insisted that Spencer absolutely had to get his hair cut. And to make sure he actually went, she got herself an appointment, too.

Sometimes Spencer thinks he needs different friends.

"It'll be fine," Z says. 

Spencer doesn't feel fine. And it only gets worse. When Ryan drives him to the studio, Spencer feels like he's going to throw up any second now. Spencer got two tickets to give to friends or family who wanted to come to the show. Ryan's got one, and the other went to Spencer's mom. Spencer would have preferred to have Z there, but she has a show or a reading or something and can't come. 

"This will be horrible," Spencer tells Ryan. "I'll have wasted a perfectly good vacation day for this bullshit."

Ryan just turns the music up. 

Spencer's mom is slightly more sympathetic. "It's okay to be nervous," she says. She was surprised when Spencer told her about _Last Chance at Love_ (although he made sure to stress, several times, that this was all Ryan's fault), but she immediately agreed to come. Spencer loves his mom. 

"I'll make a fool of myself," Spencer tells her. "And everyone will see it on TV."

"You'll do great," his mom says. "Remember the time in eighth grade when you were sure you bombed that math exam? You got the best grade in your class."

"Mom, this isn't a math test. It's—" Spencer gets interrupted by someone from the studio. 

"Spencer Smith?" Spencer nods. "Please come with me to make-up," the guy says. "We'll be ready to start soon."

"You'll be all right," Spencer's mom says and squeezes his hand. 

Sitting in make-up means a lot of time to freak out. 

"Your first time in front of the camera?" the make-up artist, Liza, asks.

Spencer nods. "This is a really stupid idea," he says.

"Don't worry, everyone thinks that while they're in my chair. It's almost bad enough to give me a complex."

Spencer's startled into laughing. "Well, maybe it's really you," he says. 

Liza grins. "On the upside, you'll be safe from me in fifteen minutes, if you can just sit quietly for that long."

That is something Spencer can do.

~~~***~~~

Spencer knows how the show works—in addition to him watching the show, he was also briefed, a thick letter full of questions and explanations. But it's different to be standing here, where he can feel the hot spotlights, where he can hear the stage directions, where he can see the people behind the cameras.

Spencer's standing stage left, in a small area where he can't see the stage. He knows that the other three contestants—no, not contestants, the _contenders_ —are going to be led on stage first. Eric will ask them a few questions and then he'll send them into the small cabins where they're hidden from Spencer's view. 

The director is talking on his headset. "Okay, people," he calls. "Ready to shoot!" He makes a sign at the sound guy and then Spencer hears the familiar tones of the theme music. 

"This is your last chance at love," Eric sings. "It's all you've ever dreamt of." Spencer can't see him, but out of experience he knows that Eric's slowly walking around the stage until he's right in the middle. "This is your last chance at love, it's all you've ever needed."

There's a pause, and then Eric calls out, "Welcome to another episode of _Last Chance at Love_. Before we meet today's first contestant, let's meet the contenders."

Spencer closes his eyes and listens intently. There's an Ian, who sounds pretty laid-back; a Mike, who's apparently a swimmer or something; and, lastly, a Brendon. Ian and Brendon's voices seem familiar, but Spencer can't say whether it's because he's heard them before or if they're just similar to someone else's voice. 

"Please go to your cabins now, each in one. Let's meet today's contestant: Spencer!"

Spencer takes a deep breath and then he's more or less pushed on stage. He makes sure to smile when he steps into the spotlight. 

It's nice to know that Ryan and his mom are sitting in the audience, although Spencer can't see more than shadows due to the spotlights. 

But he walks straight to Eric and shakes his hand. Eric pulls him close and puts his arm around Spencer's shoulder. "So, Spencer, are you excited to be here?"

Spencer nods. "I'm very happy that I can be here tonight."

"Tell us a few words about yourself, so that your contenders know what treasure awaits them."

Spencer's used to Eric's banter, but it's still weird to be the object of it. Right now he's happy that he listened to the advice in his information packet and prepared what he wanted to say ahead of time. "I'm 25 years old and work as accountant in a large company. I love going to concerts and eating out."

"Very nice," Eric says. "Now that we know who you are, it's time for the first round."

Spencer nods. Eric leads him to his seat, while he explains the show to the camera. "As our regular viewers know, the first round is our Q&A round. Spencer here gets to ask each of our contenders one question and then he'll have to eliminate one of them.

"First question goes to Ian," Eric adds.

"What's more important, doing something you love or earning a lot of money?" Spencer looks at the wall separating him from the contenders. 

"Definitely doing something I love," Ian says and laughs. "I don't believe in selling your soul to the establishment." 

Spencer refrains from saying that he probably _is_ the establishment Ian wants nothing to do with. But then Ian adds, "You should stay true to what you believe in, is what I believe."

It's kind of naive, but sweet. Spencer looks at Eric and nods to indicate that he's ready for the next question.

Eric grins. "And now Mike."

"What is the animal that reflects your soul?" It's not the most original question, but Spencer still likes it.

Mike's quiet for a moment. "A fish," he says finally. "I love to swim."

Given that Mike's already mentioned that several times, Spencer has problems not fainting at the surprising answer. 

"Final question!" Eric says. "It's Brendon's turn."

"We all make mistakes. If you could go back and undo one, what would it be?"

Brendon hums quietly. "I don't think I would change anything," he says. "My mistakes are part of what shaped me. And they've led me to where I am now, so undoing them would be like saying that I don't like who I am."

Brendon's answer makes Spencer smiles. It's by far the answer he likes the most.

Then Eric stands at Spencer's side again and points to the wall. "Now you've heard all answers and it's time to decide. Spencer, who do you eliminate?"

Spencer contemplates it for a second, but he already knows. "Mike," he says. "Sorry, dude."

It feels anticlimactic. While he was preparing his questions, he'd been afraid of this moment. "What if I choose wrong?" he'd asked Ryan. "What if I kick out the candidate I'd like the most? One fucking question isn't a lot to go by."

Ryan had just shrugged. "Tough luck," he'd said. "Don't worry too much."

After all that needless worrying, it's strange to feel so sure about his decision now.

Mike comes out. He's tall, tanned, and kind of handsome in a nonstandard way. Spencer really feels sorry for a moment, but then Mike shakes his hand and he's gone. 

"We're gonna break for a short while, so stay tuned—when we come back, we'll play match up!" Eric cheerfully tells the camera. 

In truth, they don't really break. It's only a minute where they can take a deep breath and sip some water. They're not actually allowed to move beyond some stretching—the show takes the whole not seeing each other before the grand finale thing much more seriously than Spencer expected. 

Eric gives Spencer a pat on the shoulder. "You're doing great," he says. "That was a good choice."

Spencer doesn't get a chance to ask why, because Director Guy signals them again. "Get ready for round two! And cameras ... are rolling!"

"Welcome back to _Last Chance at Love_. We're now doing our match-up round, in which we ask both our contestant and the two remaining contenders the same questions. The contender who answers the most questions with the same answer as Spencer will get to move on to our final round: the date."

This round is Spencer's favourite because he finds it to be the most honest one. It's not up to the contestant to make up stupid questions, and the contenders don't have to be creative or funny or whatever when trying to answer. It's just simple yes or no questions and choosing between two things. 

But now as he's standing here, holding his two paddles (the yes/no one is red/blue, the a/b one is green/yellow), he feels much more nervous. He can't influence anything in this round, so he should be able to relax. Instead, he is so tense his shoulders actually hurt. 

"I will ask you seven questions," Eric says. "Each of you chooses the answer that applies to him. We'll count each match and the contender with the most matches will enter the final round."

Spencer has to face away from the cabins, so he can't catch glances at what sides they're holding up. It's also difficult to gauge the audience's reaction, as he can only see them out of the corners of his eyes.

"Question #1! Are you a morning person?"

Spencer suppresses a sigh and raises the blue 'no.' 

"Question #2! Are you a) a cat person or b) a dog person?"

It's the yellow 'b' this time. Spencer listens intently, but the audience has also been instructed not to react too loudly.

"Are you tidy?" earns a 'yes.'

"A) West coast or b) East coast?" Spencer's only ever lived on the West coast, so that's a doozy. Ryan's invited him to New York a couple of times, but Spencer never liked the city that much.

"Do you have a tattoo?" Ryan's called Spencer a wimp for not getting one, but Spencer likes his skin just the way it is, okay?

"Would you rather eat a) Chinese or b) tacos?" Spencer's stumped for a moment then he replies with 'b.'

"Wow," Eric says. "Our intermediate result is really interesting. This final question will decide! Do you like piña coladas and taking walks in the rain?" 

Spencer grins and holds up 'yes.'

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a match!" Eric yells. "And the contender who made it is ... Brendon!"

Spencer releases the breath he wasn't aware he was holding. He'd really liked Brendon's answer earlier, and now he's curious to finally meet the guy.

"It's time for the reveal," Eric tells the camera. "Spencer, please turn around and face the wall."

Spencer doesn't think he's ever been so nervous before in his entire life.

Brendon will also be facing the wall right now. In only a few seconds, Eric will pull away the wall and Spencer will see just whom he got himself landed with. 

"Now, Spencer, please meet Brendon!" 

The wall rumbles away and on the other side ... there's Energizer Bunny Guy, beaming at Spencer. 

"Hi Spencer!" Brendon's not shy and he immediately pulls Spencer in for a hug. Spencer hugs him back out of instinct, but feeling a bit uncomfortable. 

Eric's grinning at them. "And we've found another couple! Next week, tune in to see how their date, the final round of this game, has turned out."

Spencer smiles, trying for sincere, but probably falling short. The spotlights are dimmed and everyone's ushered from the stage. 

Hanna, who's turned out to be an associate producer, hauls both Brendon and Spencer away. "We've prepared something," she says. "You'll get the details tomorrow, and the date will take place this Saturday."

Spencer nods. All of this was already in the information package. 

"I'm so excited!" Brendon really seems pretty happy, and Spencer feels kind of bad for not being quite as enthused. But he can only remember Brendon as being the most annoying person on earth, and he finds it difficult to unify that with the Brendon who's answered his questions and is presumably his best match. 

"Me, too," Spencer lies. Then his mom and Ryan show up. 

Ryan eyes Brendon, but shakes his hand, while Spencer's mom smiles at him warmly. "It's nice to meet you," Spencer's mom says. 

Brendon laughs. "It's my pleasure," he says, and Spencer can practically see his mom melt in the face of such politeness. It just makes Spencer want to get the fuck out of there. 

Of course, it's not that easy. He has to sign an agreement to let them film their date, and then Hanna hands him even more papers to read. 

At some point, Spencer loses track of Brendon, but then Hanna finds him again. "You'll be picked up on Saturday at 7 p.m.," she says. "Dress smart."

Spencer finds Ryan and his mom. "Brendon's gone," Ryan says. "Said something about work."

Spencer probably shouldn't be that relieved, but he doesn't care. "I want to go home," he says. All of a sudden, he feels exhausted. He thinks he'll need a few days to process what happened today. "I still can't believe that just happened."

His mom laughs. "I think you lucked out," she says. "Brendon was the prettiest one."

"Mom," Spencer says. 

When they finally get out of the studio building, Spencer takes a deep breath. So he has a date with someone he doesn't really know, and the whole affair will be filmed and be broadcast on TV. Absolutely nothing to worry about.

~~~***~~~

On Saturday at 6 p.m., Spencer is getting kind of nervous. He's showered and about to get dressed, if Ryan and Z ever agree on an outfit. Spencer doesn't know what he was thinking when he agreed to let them 'help.'

"Guys, I only have one hour left," Spencer says, to interrupt their argument whether Spencer should wear a tie or a cravat. He doesn't give a fuck, as long as he's going to wear something. 

"Ryan, get out," Z says. "Let me help Spencer."

"I've know Spencer for much longer—"

"Ryan," Spencer says. "Please." He's sure he sounds just as frazzled as he feels. He wishes he weren't so nervous, because it's not like this is Spencer's first blind date. 

But it makes Ryan give in. "I'm gonna watch TV," he says as he leaves. "And I will heckle when you come out."

"Whatever," Z says.

Ten minutes later, Spencer's dressed in a dark suit and Z's tying his tie because Spencer's hands are shaking. 

"I feel like a freshman going to prom," he says. "Jesus."

"Just concentrate on Brendon," Z says. "Now turn around and let me admire my work."

~~~***~~~

Brendon admires Z's work, too. At 7 p.m. sharp the doorbell rings, and Brendon's at the door. "Wow," he says. "You look great."

Spencer can feel his cheeks warm up. "You look pretty good yourself," he says. "Hi."

The TV crew's already filming, and Spencer tenses up. "Maybe we should get going," he suggests.

Brendon nods. "There's a driver waiting," he says. Brendon offers Spencer his arm just as Spencer is stepping forward, so Spencer bumps into him and makes them both stumble. 

"Sorry," Spencer says, his cheeks heating up even more. God, normally he's not that clumsy, but he didn't expect Brendon to offer Spencer his arm. What is Spencer, a Victorian lady? Spencer can't decide if he thinks it's quaint and adorable or embarrassing and annoying.

"So where are we going?" Spencer asks, with faked bravado to mask his embarrassment.

"Um," Brendon says. "They, uh, won't tell."

Spencer's working really hard to keep the smile on his face. He fucking hates surprises.

"And cut!" 

Spencer startles. One of the TV people comes up to him. "Hi, my name's Ben," he says. "I'm directing tonight."

Spencer nods. 

"Don't worry about us, we're just going to be shadowing you tonight." Ben grins. "Just trust us, we've prepared an incredible date."

"Awesome," Spencer says, pretending to be excited. He thinks he doesn't quite manage not to sound hollow. Next to him, Brendon's bouncing in place. 

And then they're off. They're being driven around in an incredibly tacky limousine, the kind high school kids get to go to prom. Spencer hates it on sight. The atmosphere in the car's a bit tense. Spencer can't forget that the camera team's filming, and the conversation between Brendon and him is worse than stilted. They keep it to small talk, and Spencer catches Brendon glancing at the camera team every now and then. It mostly coincides with the times when Brendon stumbles over his words, stops mid-sentence, and bites his lips as if he was about to say something he rather shouldn't say in front of a camera.

On the one hand, it comforts Spencer that he's not on the only one affected by the cameras. On the other hand, it doesn't make for a sparkling and scintillating conversation.

Spencer's relieved when the car stops. But it only lasts until he gets out and sees where they are. 

Brendon doesn't appear to be any happier than Spencer to stand right in front of Chez Alain, a very expensive, super trendy high class French restaurant. It's much more upscale than Spencer expected. Suddenly, he feels completely underdressed. 

"We're eating here?" Brendon asks. He sounds unsure and like he'd rather be anywhere else.

Ben smirks. It's the kind of grin that makes Spencer want to wipe it off Ben's face. "We reserved you one of the really good tables," he says. 

Brendon visibly pulls himself together—he stands up straight and puts a smile on his face. "I've never been to such a place," he says. "It'll be lots of fun, I'm sure." 

Spencer's not sure if Brendon's trying to encourage Spencer or himself.

The maître d' spares them one look. " _Last Chance_?" he says pointedly. Spencer wants to run away, but Brendon nods.

The maître d' leads them through the restaurant. Spencer feels like everyone is watching them—the camera team that's following them does not even try to be inconspicuous and he thinks they're standing out like a sore thumb. 

They sit down at their table, but it's not a relief. The camera crew sets up shop close by and starts rolling the film immediately. 

Their waitress, a young blonde woman, appears out of thin air. She's smiling at Brendon and Spencer much more warmly than the maître d'. But then, Spencer thinks, she looks like she actually wants to be on TV.

"Good evening, gentlemen," she says. "My name's Charlotte and I will try to make your evening as pleasant as possible." She hands them the menu and pours them water.

Spencer thinks he maybe grabs it too fast, but he's happy to have something to do with his hands. 

"Alain recommends the foie gras and the cuisses de grenouilles," Charlotte says. "We also have a set menu of our highlights."

Brendon looks at his menu with a slightly pained face. Spencer doesn't understand why until he opens his own menu—it's entirely in French. Fuck, he thinks. "I'll, uh, have the set menu," he says. It's better than trying to figure out what the fuck quizzes de grenada or whatever are.

"I'll have the same," Brendon says. 

"May I suggest a wine?" Charlotte smiles at them. 

Brendon nods. "It's all right by me, unless Spencer wants to choose one?"

As if Spencer knows much about wine. Beer, yes, wine, no. "No, I entirely trust you," Spencer tells Charlotte. He wonders if it would be okay to get stinking drunk on really expensive wine during dinner. 

Charlotte leaves and Brendon sighs. "I feel as if everyone is staring at us," he whispers at Spencer. 

Spencer can only muster him a tight smile—he feels exactly the same. They do get a lot of stares, although most of them are more angry than fascinated. Spencer thought that people in L.A. would be used to random camera teams appearing, but apparently the patrons of this very upscale, very expensive restaurant didn't expect to be beleaguered here. The menu didn't even list prices, which in Spencer's experience means that he really doesn't want to know. If he's going to eat a menu that costs as much as his rent, he'd rather be oblivious about it. 

"So," Brendon says. He shifts on his seat, his leg jiggling under the table. It makes the silverware clank, and they get a few more annoyed glances. 

"Brendon," Spencer says. He wants to say, _sit still for god's sake_ , but he's too aware of the microphones Ben had fastened to their ties. He wishes this evening were already over. He suppresses the urge to sigh loudly. Their date's barely started and Spencer's already longing for his comfy couch and a cold bottle of beer. He went into this with low expectations. He's spent a fair amount of time thinking about this date, but he didn't think he'd ever feel quite this much out of his depth. He's in a restaurant that serves food he can't pronounce, surrounded by all sorts of posh people glaring at him, and to top it off, it's going to be on TV.

There's no cutting out early, either, for exactly that reason. At least when Ryan sets him up with a friend of a friend of Z's on a blind date, Spencer can steal away after the entree. Tonight he's not going to get this lucky. 

"What?" Brendon looks at Spencer with wide eyes. He's nervously tapping his fingers on the table and the urge to just grab Brendon's hand and press it flat down against the table is almost overwhelming Spencer. But he's aware how differently it would look on film and he's not sure if he's ready for apparent PDAs yet.

"Your fingers," Spencer says through tightly clenched teeth.

Brendon looks down at his hand, fingers still drumming, and he freezes. Not only that, he seems to visibly shrink, although he does actually manage to sit still. "Sorry," he whispers. 

Spencer leans in close. "Why are you whispering?"

Brendon smirks. "Restaurants like this make me feel like I'm always too loud," he says. 

"Maybe you are," Spencer says, but it doesn't come out as lightly as he meant it.

Brendon's face falls slightly, but before Spencer can apologise and say it was a joke, Charlotte comes with their entrees. "Escargots au beurre," she says. "We recommend a Pinot Blanc with it."

"Okay," Brendon says. 

Spencer's too occupied with looking at the plate Charlotte set down in front of him. 

"Please enjoy your meal," Charlotte says as she leaves.

"Spencer," Brendon says quietly. "What—what is this?"

Spencer swallows. "Snails, I think." 

So Spencer knows theoretically that snails are a delicacy in France. But he knows it like the fact that his parents had to have had sex to have him and his sisters: he knows it, but he prefers not to think about it.

"Fuck," Brendon says. Then he sighs and picks up his glass of wine. "Well, then. Here's to living adventurous?" 

"To living adventurous." Spencer drinks of his wine and starts to eat. He thinks this will be a very long, long meal.

After the escargots, they move on to "entrecote grille" and a red wine, which is so dry Spencer makes a face when he drinks. "At least the food's edible," he says, but it comes out so bored that Spencer wants to cringe. 

It's not Brendon's fault, well, not entirely. There's the camera team and the microphones, which make Spencer think three times about every single word he says, and often he gets tired before he's managed to word what he wants to say in such a way that it doesn't come off as mean or bored or could be misunderstood, and he ends up saying nothing at all.

Brendon makes it up by the opposite—he keeps talking, thankfully keeping his mouth closed while he eats, but it's an endless litany of meaningless trite remarks that Spencer's loathe even to call small talk. Whenever Brendon asks a question, Spencer's unsure how to reply—he doesn't want to give away too much of himself while he's being filmed, but without volunteering any information, he finds it very difficult to connect to Brendon. And without that connection, Spencer's not willing to put himself on the table. 

"So, Spencer," Brendon says. He looks straight at Spencer, smiling bravely. Spencer has the sudden thought that Brendon's kind of really gorgeous when he smiles. He just wishes that Brendon would talk less when he's nervous.

Brendon takes a deep breath. Now that he has Spencer's attention, he seems to have lost his courage. "So ... did you study in L.A.?"

Spencer doesn't really want to go into detail how it came that he studied in L.A. because it was partly out of spite—Ryan had applied to schools in Chicago, Boston, and fucking New York, as if he couldn't get far away from Las Vegas and the West Coast. So Spencer only applied to schools on the West Coast and waited for Ryan to ask why. Ryan never asked, though. Spencer hadn't even expected to be accepted by Stanford of all schools and even less to get a good scholarship, but then it seemed stupid to waive his place at Stanford to go to UNLV. Spencer doesn't want the entire world to know that, though. So he simply answers shortly, "Yes." As an afterthought, he adds, "And you? Where did you study?"

Brendon's smile falters. "Vegas," he says. Spencer wonders if he hit a sore spot.

Then Brendon shakes it off, although his smile doesn't seem quite as authentic right now. "Uh, how do you like Los Angeles?"

"It's ... nice," Spencer says. "It's, uh, sunny."

L.A. gets like 329 sunshine days per year. Of course, it's fucking sunny. Spencer feels stupid and busies himself with his food. 

"Oh, yes," Brendon says. "I like it because I can go to the beach and enjoy the sun all the time."

Spencer wants to groan. He's had a date once with a guy Z set him up with, and the guy was a total beach bum. He sounded exactly like Brendon does right now—a bit overexcited, not very bright, and kind of boring.

It's not that Spencer thinks Brendon's completely boring. He wants to ask Brendon about his mistakes, why he wouldn't change them, but he feels it's too intimate a subject. Spencer doesn't even want to talk about his family in much detail, just exchanges the pillar information—two younger sisters, twins, his mom and dad—before changing the topic. Brendon answers equally short, so Spencer doesn't feel comfortable broaching any subject that goes deeper than what you could find on a Google search.

And throughout the entire meal, Spencer feels the camera zoomed in on them like a sniper's red spot on his back. 

So they keep chatting about the weather. 

"So you go to the beach often?" Spencer asks because he's done with his entrecote and needs to say something.

Brendon nods and gestures. "Yes, I—"

Spencer can see it happen, and time shortens to slow-motion, but he couldn't have prevented it: Brendon's right arm, holding the knife, making an elaborate circle, moving directly toward Brendon's wine glass, moving closer, yet closer, hitting Brendon's wine glass—it wobbles, for a short moment, then falls over. Spencer leans in, catching it mostly, but half of the contents pours out, directly onto Spencer's suit.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry!" Brendon gets up quickly, giving the table a jerk so that everything on the table clanks. By now they have the attention of everyone in the restaurant.

Spencer's never been so fucking embarrassed in his life.

Brendon dabs at Spencer's arms with his napkin, his face, ears, and neck a bright red. 

Spencer bites his tongue and swallows down the scathing reply. "Just leave it be," he says, but Brendon won't stop rubbing at his sleeves. "Fuck, just stop. It's already ruined."

Brendon sinks back down. He's biting his lip and if Spencer wasn't so furious and embarrassed, he might even have found it cute.

Charlotte materialises next to their table. "Is there anything—"

"The rest room," Spencer says. "Please."

Spencer doesn't give a fuck about leaving Brendon alone at their table, he just needs to get the fuck away from him. 

In the restroom, he pulls off his suit jacket and looks at his shirt. "I know I should've gone with the black shirt," he tells his mirror image. "Fuck." 

Out of spite, he texts Ryan a image of his wine-red sleeve and adds, _it's all your fault_. Then he washes his hands and leans down heavily on the sink. He can only stall for so long. At some point he has to go back and get the rest of the evening over. 

It takes him another five minutes to pull himself together and go back to their table. 

Brendon seems tiny, sitting still there. When Spencer passes tables, he can hear quiet whispers. Just like lunch period in high school, he thinks. Except that the food is better here.

"I'm really sorry," Brendon says when Spencer sits down.

"It's okay," Spencer says. He just wants to get this over with, so he can go home. Tomorrow he'll spend on the couch drinking beer and watching movies to forget about this disaster.

Brendon nods tersely.

Conversation gets even more stilted afterwards. When dessert finally arrives, Spencer's about ready to jump out of his skin. 

At least, he thinks, nothing can go wrong with dessert. And for once he's right. 

"Profiterolles," Charlotte says and puts down something white drizzled in chocolate sauce.

"Oh, thank god," Brendon says. "This looks good."

Spencer nods. When he looks up the next time, he sees that Brendon has a tiny spot of chocolate sauce high on his cheek. It's almost cute, although Spencer cannot fathom how Brendon would get chocolate sauce there. 

Brendon looks up at the same time and notices Spencer looking at him. 

Spencer points at his cheek. "You have something—chocolate sauce," he says. He wants to kick himself because normally he can speak in full sentences, really. 

"Oh, thanks." Brendon wipes it off and gives Spencer a genuine smile.

It doesn't matter, anyway. After this they're free to go—or so Spencer thinks. 

Charlotte comes by their table one last time. She nods at the camera team. "Ben wants to let you know that your car is waiting outside. They'll follow in a different car."

Spencer puts on a brave smile. "Then shall we leave?"

Brendon smiles back at him. "Let's."

~~~***~~~

"And you really can't tell us where we're going," Spencer asks their driver for the fifth time.

"It's a surprise," the guy simply says. Then he has the audacity to put up the partition wall between the driver's cabin and the limousine's big passengers area. 

Spencer scowls at the wall, but it means he has to turn back toward Brendon.

Brendon's looking down. "I'm—"

"I know you're sorry," Spencer interrupts. "It's—let's just move on."

When the car stops, Spencer almost jumps out of the car. He knows he's being rude, but he doesn't care anymore. He just wants to get this damn date over with.

They're a little bit outside Los Angeles, the city lights still bright. And there's a fucking hot air balloon there.

"You are kidding me," Spencer says. 

Right then Ben and the stupid camera turn up. "This is your surprise!" he says. "We are going to take you on a romantic tour of the city in a hot air balloon."

"Uh," Spencer says. 

"That is awesome," Brendon says. He's beaming and moving closer to the basket of the balloon. "I've always wanted to try one."

"Your wish has come true," Ben says.

Spencer spares a moment to wonder if they pay him extra for being so cheesy, but most of his mind is still busy processing the words 'hot air balloon' and 'tour of the city.' "You mean we're going up in that?" His voice sounds maybe a little shrill.

Ben grins. He looks like a maniac, Spencer thinks. "Yes, you are."

Spencer looks at the balloon again. He hates heights and—he notices Brendon looking at him. Brendon looks so hopeful, but also sad, and Spencer realises that Brendon thinks Spencer's going to call it off. Fuck, he wants to call it off, but then Brendon glances at the balloon again, with such longing, and Spencer's already been enough of an asshole today. Besides, how long is it going to take? Half an hour maybe? Spencer can survive that long. He just doesn't have to look down. Or he can pretend he's in a plane and not in a flimsy basket held up by a few ropes connected to a really large balloon. 

"Okay," he says and seals his fate.

"Jerry's your guide," Ben tells them. "He'll make sure you get back to us safely."

Jerry has a nice, firm handshake, and then they climb inside. "Attention, we're taking off," Jerry says. 

Spencer imagined it both to be worse and better—there's a jerk when they take off, but once they're in the air and rising, it's much smoother than Spencer expected. 

Brendon chats amiably with Jerry, who seems amused to have such an interested client. He keeps glancing at Spencer, but Spencer makes sure to study the ropes holding the basket. 

"Now we've reached our cruising altitude," Jerry says. "Come on, have a look."

Brendon immediately goes to the brim and looks down. "Wow," he says. "Hey, Spencer, you have to look at this. It's so amazing."

And that's when Spencer makes the mistake of listening to Brendon and actually looks down. "Oh my god," he whispers. His insides turn over—they're up so high and these ropes aren't that thick and a really strong wind gust could probably make the basket topple over and—

"Spencer, what's going on, are you okay?"

Someone grabs Spencer's arm and pulls him away from the brim. "Come on, sit down, boy," Jerry tells him.

Spencer sinks down to the floor, grateful because his knees are all wobbly. 

Brendon sits down next to him, looking worried. "Spencer?"

Spencer shakes his head. "It's nothing, just—" He points at the brim. "You should enjoy the view."

Brendon looks at him for a long moment. "Are you afraid of heights?"

"Uh," Spencer says.

"Be honest," Brendon demands. He sounds a bit upset.

"Kind of," Spencer says.

"Why didn't you say something?" Now Brendon sounds sad again and it's stupid that it makes Spencer feel bad, but it does.

"I'm—I'm not, like, _deadly_ afraid of heights." Brendon snorts. "I'm fine with roller coasters," Spencer says. "I just thought—oh, never mind."

"I'm sorry," Brendon says. This time Spencer doesn't tell him it's all right.

"You should keep enjoying the view," Spencer says. "So that at least one of us can."

Brendon slowly gets up again. Spencer closes his eyes and wishes he were back on firm ground.

~~~***~~~

Spencer's pretty sure that their tour was supposed to last longer than half an hour; when they come back, the camera crew scrambles to get into position. There's some whispering between Ben and Jerry, but Brendon pulls Spencer aside.

"Jerry's going to say that his info only said half an hour," Brendon says. 

Now Spencer feels really shitty that he's going to get Jerry into trouble, but a large part of him is mostly relieved that it's finally over.

The car ride back to Spencer's house is very, very quiet. Spencer wishes he could stare out of the windows, but they are tinted so dark he can't see anything. He doesn't look at Brendon, though, because every time he does, he feels a pang at seeing the way Brendon looks kind of sad. 

Spencer wishes this date had gone much better. He didn't even get a chance to ask how invested Brendon was in this date, if Brendon really thought he'd found love. It still doesn't lessen his relief that this farce is finally over.

At Spencer's house, everyone piles out of the car after Spencer. Ben waves at them. "So, we're going to film Brendon bringing you to your door," he says. Spencer barely withstands the urge to roll his eyes. "And then you're going to get to say a few words on the date in private. Later, Brendon will get to do the same."

Brendon smiles at Spencer. Thankfully, he doesn't offer Spencer his arm. They just walk side by side to Spencer's door. On the patio Brendon turns to look at Spencer. "I, uh, it was a, a nice evening," Brendon says. 

Spencer feels it would be rather mean to reply with _except for the catastrophic parts_ , so he nods. "I—" _had fun_ dies on his lips. "It was a pleasure to meet you," he says instead. It's the easier lie.

Brendon smiles and for a moment Spencer's afraid he's going to lean up for a kiss, but Brendon just hugs him, a short, fleeting embrace. It feels nice, for whatever that is worth.

Then Ben pretty much whisks Brendon away and leads him back to the car. "Just a minute," he tells Spencer, and to Brendon, "Wait in the car, please."

The camera guy comes closer to Spencer, and then Ben's back. "We'd like to hear your final words on your date," Ben says. He's grinning, in a not very nice way. "What's the verdict?"

Spencer shrugs. "It was okay," he says. 

Ben grins. "Did you have fun?"

Spencer's tired and drunk and still high on emotion from the stupid hot air balloon ride. Instead of the lie he told Brendon, he now says, "No, not really. Brendon's, uh, he's nice, pretty to look at, but not a very good conversationalist."

"So your last chance at love...?"

Spencer sighs. "Dude, I hope that wasn't my last chance," he says, "or I'm destined to die alone."

And then he finally gets to go inside and leave the camera team behind.

~~~***~~~

Because Spencer's friends are assholes, he gets a million texts the next morning, all asking him how it went. Only Gabe wants to know when Brendon had left. Spencer didn't even bother texting him back. Spencer's mom is the only person who calls him.

"So how did it go?" 

Spencer feels bad about telling his mom the truth, because she sounds so excited and happy. She liked Brendon, at least she said so, and Spencer feels like a loser. 

"It, uh. It wasn't—" Spencer sighs. 

His mom's quiet for a moment. "I guess it didn't go well."

"It was a disaster, Mom." Spencer tells her everything, and she hums in sympathy and makes encouraging noises and is generally supportive. 

"You're not going to see him again." It's a statement, not a question, and Spencer loves his mom for getting this.

"I don't even have his number," Spencer says. "So, no."

Ryan doesn't call. Maybe the number of texts Spencer sends him containing a variety of _I hate you and your stupid ideas_ is putting him off. 

In the end, Z comes by and drags Spencer out of his house. "You're invited for lunch."

"Am I allowed to gently reject the offer?" Spencer says, as Z pulls him down his driveway to her car.

"No," she says calmly. "I have beer and cheap Mexican food to offer."

It sounds pretty amazing. Spencer knows better than to say that out loud. 

"Was it really that bad?" Z wants to know while they're driving to Ryan's. 

"It really, really was." Spencer sighs. "I guess it just wasn't meant to be."

And because sometimes Spencer's friends are really fucking awesome, that's the last Spencer hears of it.

~~~***~~~

"I hate end-of-quarter closing," Spencer says. He's mentioned it before, but he thinks it bears repeating.

"You said," Ryan says. He's sprawled out on Spencer's couch, frowning at the cooking show Spencer put on. "Wait, is she separating the egg with her bare hands? Eww."

"Shut up," Spencer says. "Nigella's awesome."

Ryan flips him the bird, but doesn't move. "Can you bring me another beer?"

Spencer gets up with a sigh. "Why is it why I always have to get the beer, regardless of whether we're in my house or yours?"

"Remember what happened when I dropped that bottle of beer?" Ryan says. 

Spencer shudders. His floor had been sticky for weeks. "You and your fucking mixed beer," he says.

"Hey, I'm long over that phase."

"Not long enough," Spencer says. But then the doorbell rings. 

"That's probably the food," Ryan says. "Wow, they're fast."

"Thank you for pointing that out," Spencer says. He grabs his wallet and walks to the door fast. The Thai guy gets incredibly cranky if he has to wait for more than ten seconds at the door. Spencer's already cranky enough to cover the entire street, he can't stand more crankiness.

But it's not the Thai guy. It's Brendon.

"Hi," Brendon says. He shuffles from foot on the other. "I just—do you have a minute?"

"Sure," Spencer says, a bit dumbfounded. 

"Is that the food?" Ryan yells.

"No, shut up," Spencer yells back.

Brendon's face falls slightly.

"Uh, that's my best friend," Spencer says. "His girlfriend is touring again and now he lives on my couch and pretends not to miss her and—why are you here?"

Brendon takes a deep breath. "I want a second chance," he says.

"What?"

Brendon starts waving his hand around. "I know it's called ' _Last_ Chance at Love,' but—I think our date was kind of unfair to both of us."

"It didn't really go well," Spencer agrees.

"Yeah," Brendon says. "I figured that maybe it was because neither of us actually got to choose the date, you know? Like, I don't even drink wine."

"Me neither," Spencer says. "So you want to—try again?"

Spencer hears Ryan walking down the hallway.

Brendon nods. "I already have a plan," he says. "I mean—I didn't want to be creepy or stuff, but I saw your surfboard."

Spencer blinks. "Okay," he says.

"So—" Brendon sighs. "I want to invite you to come surfing with me. Um, this Saturday morning, if that's okay? I mean, we can go some other time, if you're busy or you don't want or—"

Brendon looks down, biting his lip. Spencer looks over his shoulder to find Ryan standing right behind him. He's grinning. "Say yes, Spencer," Ryan says. "Don't make the poor boy on your doorstep wait."

Spencer opens his mouth to give Ryan a scathing reply, but what comes out is, "Yeah, it's okay. What time on Saturday?"

Brendon beams at Spencer. "I checked the tide and eight a.m. is looking good. So I'll pick you up around seven or so?"

"I'll be ready," Spencer says.

"Awesome." Brendon's smiling. "I promise it won't be as terrible as last time."

"Well, I think you'd have to really try to make it worse," Spencer says.

Brendon laughs. "Okay then. Saturday at seven."

"It's a date," Spencer says. 

Then the Thai guy does come. He glares at Brendon, and despite his good intentions Spencer finds himself glaring right back. He's purposefully ignoring Ryan's snickering. 

Half an hour later, Spencer turns to Ryan. "That just really happened, did it?"

"Oh, you mean your _second_ Last Chance at Love? Yep, that happened."

Spencer thwacks Ryan with a pillow.

~~~***~~~

The nice thing about an early morning date is that Spencer doesn't spend hours and hours beforehand working himself up into a frenzy.

Instead he oversleeps. He just manages to take a quick shower and pack his surfing gear before Brendon rings the bell.

"Good morning!" Brendon's bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, as Spencer's grandma would've said. 

Spencer waves good morning and empties his coffee mug. "Just give me a minute to grab my bag, then we can leave."

"I'm taking you to my favourite beach," Brendon tells Spencer in the car. "It's not overrun and the surf is awesome."

"Okay," Spencer says. 

Brendon stops by the next Starbucks drive-through, earning himself Spencer's ever-lasting loyalty. Well, as ever-lasting as the cup of coffee Spencer's clutching, but it's the thought that counts. 

Brendon just grins at Spencer. "I, uh, remember you drinking a lot of coffee at the casting. I thought you might like it."

"Oh." Spencer sniffs his coffee. "You remember that?" 

Brendon shrugs. "It just, it was memorable."

Spencer glances at Brendon out of the corner of his eye. He's mostly forgotten about the casting session and the only thing he can remember is being annoyed by everyone and everything. 

"So," Spencer says. "You just happen to know where the Starbucks closest to my house is?"

Brendon grins at Spencer. "No," he says. "I looked it up when I found your address."

Spencer blinks. He's not sure if the caffeine just needs to hit his bloodstream or if he's missing information here. "You found my address?"

"Uh, yeah." Brendon checks his mirrors and switches lanes. "I didn't have any contact info, so I looked you up on the internet."

"The internet," Spencer repeats. 

"Well, it's not like the studio was gonna give me your home address." Brendon shrugs. "So I checked the local listings."

"And when you had my address, you found the closest Starbucks," Spencer says. He stares at his coffee in distress. It's almost gone, and Spencer still feels like he's not quite up to speed.

"I didn't—I had a plan," Brendon says. "So I had to prepare shit and—"

"A plan," Spencer says. "What kind of plan?"

Brendon smiles, a bit abashed and sweet, and Spencer can't look away. "The basic premise of the plan was to have a better date," he says. "So I planned this. Is that—is that weird?"

"I don't know," Spencer says. "It's simply a lot more effort than anyone else would've gone through, I guess."

Brendon's smile turns positively illuminating. "Well, I really wanted to try," he says.

Spencer doesn't know what to think. He didn't—he can't remember the last time someone put that much effort into a date with Spencer. 

"You are one strange man, Brendon," Spencer says. 

"Thank you," Brendon says, his eyes twinkling. He switches lanes again, and their conversation lapses for a few minutes, while Spencer nurses his coffee (pretty much completely gone by now) and Brendon concentrates on traffic.

"I never got to ask you if you were happy to have been matched up to me," Spencer asks quietly. "I mean—were you sad you weren't a contestant yourself?"

Brendon's quiet for one long moment. "No, I wasn't sad," he says. "It was nice to even make it through the casting. Like, I signed up drunk, and my best friend was convinced it was the most stupid idea I'd ever had."

Spencer has to laugh. "It was exactly the opposite for me. Ryan signed me up."

"And also yes to your first question," Brendon says.

"What?" Spencer tries to recall what he'd said exactly and— "Oh." It's been a while since someone's been interested in Spencer, and he doesn't quite know what to do with that piece of information.

"Yep," Brendon says. "Hey, do you want to listen to some music?"

Spencer gets the hint. They spend the rest of the drive in companionable silence. Spencer finds out that Brendon has good taste in music because the first seven stations he has saved are awesome. Number eight, well, not so much.

"God, really?" Spencer stares at the radio. But it's still playing classical music. 

Brendon shrugs. "I play the piano," he says. "And sometimes I just get an urge to listen to Tchaikovsky."

"Yeah." Spencer still looks at the radio doubtfully and then turns back to the classic rock station. "Let's agree on this."

Brendon grins. "We're almost there, anyway."

The beach is gorgeous and deserted. 

"Wow," Spencer says. 

"We have a couple of hours until the tide gets weaker," Brendon says. "You wanna get in?"

Spencer follows the way of a really awesome wave until it reaches the beach. "Don't try to stop me," he says.

Brendon laughs. They change into their neoprene suits and then it's fucking on. They paddle out together, but then Brendon lets Spencer go first. "After all, you're my date," he says, smiling. "Ladies first."

"Fuck you," Spencer says without any heat. But the ride to the beach is amazing. 

By the time they decide to take a break, Spencer feels like a big prune. Also slightly weak. "God, I missed surfing," he says. 

Brendon grins. "You need more practise," he says.

Spencer sighs loudly. "I know. But getting up early on Saturdays, you know?"

"Poor baby," Brendon croons. "All work and no play make you a dull boy, didn't you know?"

When Spencer looks up, Brendon's grinning. "Come on," Brendon says. "Enjoy the sun while it's not too hot."

Spencer turns his face toward the sun and closes his eyes. It feels great. "I need to get out more," he says.

"True," Brendon says. "Look, you live in L.A. and you're not even tanned."

"Fuck, I have to apply sunblock," Spencer says. "I don't want to get sunburnt."

Brendon's shrugged off the top of his suit and Spencer has done the same. "Do you—" Brendon starts, but then he stops.

"What?"

"Do you need me to do your back?"

"Sure."

Brendon's hands are warm, despite having spent so long in the cool water. He spreads the sunblock slowly over Spencer's back, massaging it into the skin. Spencer can feel his calluses dragging over Spencer's skin, and it's giving him goose bumps. 

"There, now you're safe," Brendon says finally. 

"Thanks," Spencer says. Because he needs to test Brendon's handiwork, he lies down on his stomach, bedding his head on his forearms. "So, Brendon, what do you do when you don't surf?"

"I play music," Brendon says. 

Spencer raises one eyebrow. "A particular instrument or just 'music?" He remembers their conversation from the car. "The piano?"

Brendon raises both eyebrows and waggles them at Spencer, so that Spencer has to laugh. "Yes," he says. "But I also play the guitar and the drums."

"Wow." Spencer blinks. "That's all?"

"I also sing," Brendon admits. "I also give lessons and, uh, I—" He stops mid-word, biting his lips. 

"Brendon?" Spencer raises one eyebrow at him.

"It's not—it's nothing prestigious like your job," Brendon says. "I just—I give music lessons and I work at Guitar Center."

Spencer reaches out and prods Brendon. "As long as it makes you happy."

"It does," Brendon says.

"I used to play the drums, too," Spencer says, to break the strangely serious mood that's overcome them.

Brendon brightens up. "Yeah?"

Spencer laughs and tells Brendon all about the shitty garage band he had with Ryan in high school. "We really sucked," he says.

"No, you didn't," Brendon says and it sounds so perfectly earnest that Spencer feels a pang in his chest. Or maybe it's Brendon's smile or the way he keeps really _looking_ at Spencer.

"So, what do we do now?" he asks, changing the topic because he has no idea how to deal with this turn of events. Considering they didn't connect at all during their first date, this, right now, feels like he's known Brendon forever, with the way their conversation flows from one topic to the next. Spencer feels comfortable with Brendon in a way that makes Spencer feel also very, very out of his depth.

"We surf some more," Brendon says. "We have about two more good hours of tide, we should use it."

"Ah," Spencer says. Two hours seemed like a lot of time on their last date, but right now it feels too short.

"And then we could to go to Marta," Brendon says. "It's, uh, a restaurant, but not the kind where you need to reserve a seat or something."

"Sounds like my kind of restaurant," Spencer says, earning him another one of Brendon's bright, broad smiles. 

"Then we have a plan," Brendon says. 

They go back into the water soon after. When Spencer's legs are protesting all the exercise they're getting, he signals Brendon. "Last one for me," he calls. Brendon nods in reply.

The beach is slowly filling up. It's still nowhere as full as the beach Spencer usually goes to, though. Spencer lies down in the sun, stripping down to his swim trunks while he waits for Brendon.

Brendon makes his presence known by dripping water on Spencer.

"Fuck you," Spencer says, laughing.

"Shhh, the kids," Brendon admonishes him. His eyes are twinkling, though. "Are you hungry yet?"

Right at that moment Spencer's stomach growls loudly. 

"I guess that is my answer," Brendon says smiling.

They shower off quickly at the beach. "Won't Marta be mad if we track sand all over her nice restaurant?"

"Nah," Brendon says. "She's used to me."

Marta serves them tacos. "You're young boys, you need to grow," she says and just keeps serving them seconds and thirds.

Brendon laughs and flirts outrageously with her. "I think she's adopted me," he tells Spencer later, while they're drinking two gigantic milkshakes. "The first time I came here, I couldn't afford much, and then she insisted on sending food home with me, although I didn't have any leftovers."

"She seems to be a very nice person," Spencer says. 

"She is." Brendon smiles. "So what kind of music do you like? Still blink-182?"

Spencer laughs. "I'm not sixteen anymore," he says. "I've grown up."

"Is that code for _I'm a hipster_?"

"Fuck no." Spencer laughs. "That's Ryan."

So they land on the subject of under-appreciated bands and musicians.

"Wait, you've never heard Piano Jazz?" Brendon sounds absolutely shocked. 

Spencer shakes his head, amused. "I never was that much into Elvis Costello. Ryan thought his music wasn't edifying enough."

"Fuck Ryan," Brendon says. "We need to remedy that situation immediately."

Spencer laughs. "And how are you going to do that?"

"Well, I have the record at home," Brendon says. "Unless you, uh, don't want?"

"No, I'd love to hear it," Spencer says. Also he's curious to see Brendon's house.

Brendon grins. "Marta, check please!"

~~~***~~~

When they enter Brendon's house, they immediately get attacked by three dogs. "Down!" Brendon says. "God, you'd think I was gone for a year."

Spencer laughs. "Well, you left your pack," he says. "You shouldn't do that."

Brendon grins at him. "So you can guess that I'm a dog person, too."

"Really?" One little dog is really insistently butting his head against Spencer's leg until Spencer leans down to pet him.

"Uh, that's mine," Brendon says. "His name's Bogart."

"Hi, Bogart," Spencer says.

"These are Dylan and Indie. They're my roommate's."

"Hey, you two."

By the time Spencer's done petting—Bogart's especially clingy—Brendon's managed to put on the record they were talking about. 

They listen to it lying on the carpet, surrounded by dogs. Spencer closes his eyes and just listens. He can't remember the last time he felt so relaxed with someone who wasn't Ryan or Z. It's been way too long, he thinks. 

When he feels fingers reaching for his own, Spencer just smiles. He turns his head to look at Brendon and clasps their hands properly.

"Hi," Spencer says. 

Bogart has his head lying on Brendon's belly, Dylan's bridging the distance between Brendon and Spencer, and Indie is lying half on Spencer's legs. It's weirdly comfortable.

"Hi," Brendon says back. He's smiling, too. 

At some point the record ends. Spencer can hear his heart beat loudly in the ensuing silence. Brendon still hasn't looked away, and Spencer doesn't want to, either. 

"We should get up," Brendon says finally. 

"Yeah." 

The dogs don't stir when Brendon and Spencer stand up. But they have to let go of each other and Spencer's hand feels cold without Brendon's. 

And then they're standing in the middle of the living room, close enough to touch if either of them were brave enough to lean forward.

"I don't, normally," Spencer says quietly.

"Me neither," Brendon says. "But this isn't technically our first date, I guess?"

Spencer smiles. "You are totally right," he says. He leans forward, just slightly, and Brendon meets him halfway.

Brendon tastes like the vanilla milkshake he had earlier, like chilli and the ocean and the beach. They stumble upstairs into Brendon's room, not even closing the door in their haste.

~~~***~~~

When Spencer wakes up the next morning, his limbs are warm and heavy. Part of the reason why is that Brendon's sprawled all over Spencer.

Spencer uses the chance to just look at Brendon. He looks younger than when he's awake, his face relaxed in sleep. There's a tiny frown on his forehead, though, and Spencer can't resist the urge to smooth it down. 

Brendon mumbles something as he wakes up. He lifts his head a little and blinks at Spencer. "Morning," he says. "Hi."

"Good morning," Spencer says back. Then he presses a kiss against Brendon's lips, just because he feels like it. The butterflies in his stomach are busy flapping their little wings. 

"That is a really good morning," Brendon says. They keep trading kisses, closed-mouth, but Spencer strokes along Brendon's back until he reaches Brendon's ass and squeezes it tightly.

Brendon moans against Spencer and rolls entirely on top of him. "A really fucking good morning."

"I hope we can get around to that part," Spencer says.

Brendon grins. "Dude, I hope so." Then he leans down to kiss Spencer again. 

Then there's a knock on his door and someone says, "Hey, Brendon, I'm b—oh, fuck, can't you close the fucking door?"

Spencer looks up and there's a dark-haired guy staring at them. He doesn't seem to be very put off by their nakedness, though. 

Brendon sighs loudly. "Spencer, meet Shane. My roommate and best friend."

"Hi," Spencer says.

Something shifts in Shane's face. "So you are Spencer," he says. 

Spencer's not sure if he likes the way Shane says his name. He wonders what Brendon told Shane after their first date. "I am," he says.

"And we are naked, so if you could please leave us alone? And close the door."

Shane snorts and leaves, slamming the door behind him. 

Brendon puts his head down on Spencer's shoulder. "The mood's gone, uh?"

"Yep," Spencer says. "He, uh, didn't seem very happy to see me here?"

Brendon sighs again. "I told you that he wasn't very happy with me signing up in the first place, right?"

"Let me guess," Spencer says. "He wasn't very happy with you trying for a second chance, either?"

"And the candidate wins," Brendon says. "I guess we better go downstairs."

Breakfast's a bit of a downer, but Brendon keeps smiling at Spencer and touching him at every chance. And Spencer finds himself smiling back and reaching for Brendon's hand just as many times and—

"So I guess the second chance worked," he tells Brendon when he goes home.

Brendon beams at him. "Call me," he says. 

Spencer texts him the moment he gets home.

~~~***~~~

Spencer tells his mom first. Normally it would be Ryan, but he's gone to visit Z on her tour, and then his mom calls him for their weekly phone call and Spencer just says it.

"I think I'm in love," he says, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath afterward.

"Oh, Spencer, that is great!" His mom sounds a bit too excited, Spencer thinks. He wonders how afraid his mom was that Spencer would die alone. "Do I know him?"

"Yes, actually," Spencer says. "So, uh, Brendon came by the other day and—"

"Which Brendon?"

"There's only the one." Spencer can practically hear his mom think over the phone line. "Anyway, he came by and asked me out again. A second chance, kind of? Because the other date was just so terrible."

"And then?" His mom sounds amused more than anything else. 

"We're dating," Spencer says. "Like, uh, there was surfing and then we went to see a movie and last night I took him to that new Indian restaurant that just opened right around the corner from my house. The day after tomorrow he's invited me to the premier of his movie his best friend's directed and—"

"And you're in love with him."

"Yeah," Spencer says. "I—I can't really explain it."

"That's how love works," his mom says. "I'm happy for you. I'm happy for you both."

"Thanks," Spencer says.

~~~***~~~

Ryan actually has the audacity to pump his fist when Spencer tells him the news.

"This is not your merit," Spencer tells him. "This is Brendon not giving up, despite the odds."

"You mean, despite you being a cranky old man," Ryan says. 

Spencer sticks his tongue out at Ryan. But he's partially right—Spencer still doesn't get why Brendon wanted to try again. 

"I hardly talked," he says to Brendon. "What did you see in me that made you think I was worth the effort?"

Brendon laughs. "I saw you at the casting," he says. "And I just—sometimes you just gotta try. I didn't have anything left to lose, when I asked you for a second chance."

"But why?" Spencer repeats. Now, after several dates, he's all over Brendon. Brendon who's kind and a goofball, who has lots of opinions and makes stupid jokes, whose smile takes Spencer's breath away. "I didn't even give you a chance."

"Maybe I wanted you to give me one," Brendon says. "And maybe I saw something underneath your shell of glaring and being grumpy that made me want to figure you out."

"But—"

Brendon shuts Spencer up with a kiss. "Stop dissecting our relationship," he says, "and have sex with me."

That is a plan Spencer's completely happy with.

~~~***~~~

Everything is perfect. Spencer gradually introduces Brendon to all his friends. Brendon drags Spencer all over the greater Los Angeles area for shows and to meet Brendon's friends. One time, Brendon's around when Spencer's mom calls, so he talks to her for a few minutes.

Then _Last Chance at Love_ starts airing the episodes with Brendon and Spencer. 

Spencer finds it kind of cool to watch the actual game. "You're a morning person?" he asks Brendon. "I wouldn't have ever figured that out."

Brendon thwaps him. "Shut up or I'm making you walk Bogart the next time you sleep over."

"That's unfair," Spencer says. "It's your dog."

All of their friends are watching the show, too. Ryan wanted to watch with Spencer, and Spencer had to make Z promise to keep him from showing up. It doesn't stop Ryan from sending Spencer all the text messages. 

The next morning at work, Spencer gets stopped by every single person he meets. "Yes, that's my boyfriend now," he tells Angela from graphics. He can't stop the big stupid smile on his face or the way his voice wavers when he says 'boyfriend.' He still can't believe that really happened.

"That is so amazing," Angela says. "I always thought those couples never worked out."

In hindsight, Spencer should've seen it coming. 

"This is going to be so embarrassing," he says when they settle down to watch the episode with their date. 

"I know, right? I was so clumsy that day. And you almost had a panic attack in the balloon."

"It was really fucking high," Spencer says. 

"But you love roller coasters!"

"Yeah, but those come with seat belts and restraints and shit."

Brendon laughs at Spencer. "Let's just watch the show, okay?" he says, and lies down, his head on Spencer's lap.

After the segment of their date ends, Brendon leans over and switches the TV off. He's already moved to the very other end of the couch a long while ago. 

"I'm sorry," Spencer tries.

Brendon's not even moving, which is wrong on so many levels. Brendon's never really still, and it already hurt to see Brendon be so quiet and still on TV. Spencer really can't take more of that when Brendon's sitting right next to him. 

"I don't even know where to start," Brendon says. "What the fuck, Spencer?"

"I was stupid," Spencer says. "And—"

"Oh, come on, I deserve a better answer than that." The muscles in Brendon's jaw are right. Spencer's never seen Brendon angry before and he's kind of blown away by how angry Brendon is right now.

"Fuck, Brendon, I told you that I didn't really give you a chance before and—"

Brendon gets up and starts pacing the living room. "No, Spencer, that's just—" He shakes his head. "So I'm just pretty to look at, huh? So is that what's been happening? I'm just someone to fuck?"

"Brendon," Spencer says. "Don't—you know that's not true. You know that's not how I think about you. How I feel about you."

"Well," Brendon says. "I'm not so sure of that anymore."

And then Brendon leaves. He turns his cell phone off—whether to escape Spencer's texts or everyone else, Spencer doesn't know. 

The advertisement break hasn't even ended when Spencer gets the first text. 

_you fucked up so much, bro_ , Jackie says and Spencer can only agree with her. Since he can't get Brendon to answer his phone, he turns his cell off, too. Brendon's landline is busy, although Spencer guesses that Brendon's unplugged it rather than that Brendon's actually using it.

"Fuck," he says. He has no idea how to fix this.

~~~***~~~

"I have no idea how to fix this," Spencer tells Ryan the next day. He feels kind of sorry for himself. Today at work, everyone keeps giving him these looks. Some of them are commiserating, but there's a surprisingly high number of angry glares directed at Spencer. He figures he deserves them.

"You better come up with something," Ryan says, "because Z's already plotting your demise."

Z had immediately taken to Brendon, declaring him the perfect match for Spencer. "Well, at least he gets what I have to put up with," she told Spencer. "He knows the Ryan and Spencer show."

Z's not talking to Spencer at the moment. Since she's also cooking right now, chopping up the vegetables for their stir-fry, Spencer feels safer avoiding her.

Spencer rubs his eyes. "Everyone thinks I'm a jerk."

"Well," Ryan says.

"Oh, shut up," Spencer says. "As if you never fucked up."

"I never fucked up this publicly," Ryan says. 

Ryan's not right that often, but when he's right, he's definitely 100% right.

~~~***~~~

Spencer tries to call Brendon again, but he only reaches Brendon's voicemail—again.

"Hi, it's me," he says. "I just—I'm really fucking sorry, okay, B? I didn't mean those things. I was cranky and tired, and I should've kept my mouth shut. It was mean and it didn't really have anything to do with you."

Spencer's comments had hurt all the more because Brendon had been really sweet in his final words. Of course, the director had put Brendon's comments first. 

"I think, despite all the stuff going wrong, it was still a nice evening," Brendon had said. "I liked being with Spencer, so who knows." And then Brendon had smiled, right before they'd cut to Spencer frowning and saying in a very annoyed voice, "I'm destined to die alone."

Spencer takes a deep breath. "I miss you," he says. "I—bye, Brendon." He doesn't think Brendon would appreciate Spencer telling him _I love you_ right now. 

He sighs and leans against the wall. And then he has an idea.

~~~***~~~

Spencer's so nervous he feels like throwing up. He's pretty sure that if Brendon doesn't open the door, or if he doesn't let him in, Spencer's actually going to throw up right into the nice flower bed he helped Brendon set up a few weeks ago.

Brendon doesn't open the door. But Shane does. "He really doesn't want to talk to you, dude," Shane says. 

"I know," Spencer says. "But can you at least give him this?" He hands Shane the package he prepared. 

Shane takes it. "I can't promise you he'll open it," he says. Both Shane and Spencer know that Brendon's too curious to not open the package. Brendon's told Spencer about this ex he had and how this ex had kept sending Brendon letters, long after Brendon had broken up with him. 

"He'd hurt me so much," Brendon had said. "He'd cheated and lied and yet I couldn't stop myself from opening and reading all these stupid letters in which he was promising me that everything would be better now. He would be better and he'd treat me right and—" 

Spencer had hugged Brendon tightly. "You have me now," he'd said. 

Spencer kind of wants to slap himself, really. 

Spencer gets a text message while he's driving, but he doesn't look until he's parked in his own driveway. 

_Thanks_ , Brendon's written. _I love Mulan._

 _I know_ , Spencer texts back, but he doesn't get a reply. 

But it's a start.

~~~***~~~

Spencer also put his parents' phone number in the package. It feels a bit weird to name his mom as a character witness, but Brendon likes Spencer's mom.

Spencer does not call her immediately. He does call her the next day—so what if it's three days until their usual day? 

"He called me," his mom tells him immediately. "And no, I'm not gonna tell you what we talked about."

"It's good to know that he called," Spencer says. "That's, that's good, right?"

"Not telling," his mom says. But she's his mom—if Brendon really hated Spencer now and didn't want anything to do with him, she would tell Spencer. 

Spencer takes a deep breath. "Okay," he says. Then he asks about the new car his dad wants to buy. Anything to take his mind off Brendon.

~~~***~~~

The next day Brendon turns up on Spencer's doorstep. "This doesn't mean I'm forgiving you," he says. "It just means I'm willing to listen."

Brendon's holding the tickets to the Elvis Costello concert in his hands. Spencer bought already three weeks ago, just before _Last Chance at Love_ aired, as a surprise gift for Brendon.

"Okay," Spencer says. "Do you want to come in?"

Brendon stops in the hallway. "I'm listening," he says. 

"I'm a jerk," Spencer says. "So, uh, I guess my mother already told that sometimes I'm—"

"—a rude asshole? Yes. In these exact words."

Spencer nods. "I'm sorry for saying what I did. I didn't know you back then and I—I didn't think about what I was saying and who I was saying it to."

"I accept that apology," Brendon says. "But why didn't you tell me beforehand? Why didn't you say, 'Oh, hey, so I said something stupid,' before we watched it? That's what I don't get, Spencer."

"I forgot," Spencer says. 

"You forgot." Brendon raises his eyebrows. 

"I was too busy falling in love with you," Spencer says. He feels like his insides are being put through the meat grinder. "You came by my house and you were brave and asked me out and—then I met you, really met you, and I fell absolutely stupidly in love with you until I forgot there was a time before you and—"

Brendon puts his finger on Spencer's mouth. He's smiling. "You know that you never said it to me before, right?"

Spencer blinks. "I didn't?"

Brendon shakes his head.

"Well, I do," Spencer says. "I love you. And I'll continue making this up to you, well, if you want me to, because I miss you and I need you and—"

Brendon kisses Spencer. "Well, that's a start," he says. 

"Hey," Spencer says. "How about giving me a second chance?"

Brendon smiles. "Well, I guess I owe you one."

~~~***~~~

 _Twelve Months Later_

"Welcome to our special episode of _Last Chance at Love_!" Eric beams into the camera. "Today we're following up on a few of our candidates to see how they fared. Please give our first couple a warm applause. Here are Brendon and Spencer!"

Spencer grins sheepishly at the camera while Brendon beam next to him. His leg's jiggling, but Spencer just puts his hand on Brendon's leg. They're sitting on a big red couch shaped like a heart, of course. They're sitting on the left side and Eric sits down in the middle. 

"The last time we saw the two of you, things didn't look that rosy," Eric says. He winks at them. "Now you're looking to be pretty cozy."

Spencer suppresses a sigh at Eric's wording. "Well, things worked out all right after all," he says.

Brendon laughs. "I made him work for it," he tells Eric, but he covers Spencer's hand with his own, intertwining their fingers. "I didn't let him forget about those stupid comments."

"Lots of Disney movies," Spencer said. "And mini-golf and walking his dog at awful hours of the night."

Brendon winks at Eric. "Don't listen to him," he says. "He loves me and my dog enough to let us move in."

"That's amazing news!" Eric absolutely beams at him, although he already knows. The TV people called two months ago, and when Brendon mentioned their plans to move in together, they were basically begged to please come back to the show. 

Brendon smiles. "Well, sometimes you have to give people a second chance, right, Spencer?"

Spencer smiles right back at Brendon. "Yeah, sometimes you just have to be brave."

Eric turns back toward the camera. "You see, your first impression might be wrong. Let's hear it for second chances!"

Then it's time to introduce the next couple. 

Spencer smiles at Brendon. "Maybe they should change the name of the show," he suggests.

Brendon laughs. "I don't know," he says. "It worked all right for us."


End file.
